Always
by ooncer
Summary: Set post Neverland. Neal died to save Henry and Emma is pregnant. Mary Margaret/Emma/Henry feels. I don't own any characters or anything. Only my second fanfic. Started as a oneshot and developed into chapters. Hope you like!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My second FanFic because I love the thought of what Emma and MM could have when they get back from Neverland. Neal's dead (don't hurt me!) and Emma's pregnant. Very short one shot, I hope you enjoy it.

In the lamp-lit stillness of her room, Emma lay wide awake and staring at the ceiling. The image of that little white stick and the tiny pink plus that followed was etched in her brain. She wondered how it must feel to see one and actually be happy. Still, the bathroom at Granny's was a step up from a prison cell. Exactly what was she supposed to do now? She looked across the room at Henry, his hair damp and sticking to his head as he tossed in a restless sleep. Every night had been like this since Neverland. Sometimes he'd call out for Neal, unable to forget even when unconscious. Occasionally he'd sneak into her bed and she'd wake up to find him holding her hand in his. He needed her now more than ever.

There was a creak as someone moved across the landing and as the door slowly swung open, a bleary-eyed Mary Margaret poked her head into the room.

'I thought I saw your lamp on,' she whispered as she padded across to the bed and sat on the end.

Emma's eyes returned to the ceiling and the women were still for a while until the brunette's small voice pierced the silence.

'Penny for your thoughts?'

'I'm ok. Really.'

'Who do you think you're fooling Emma?' asked Mary Margaret. 'After everything that's happened these past few months you're not going to be ok.'

As she battled against the tears that threatened to escape her eyes, Emma gritted her teeth and made her hands into fists. She wasn't going to have this talk. Not now. But there was something she needed to confide in her mother and it might as well be now.

'I'm pregnant.'

Emma suddenly found herself in the tight grip of her mother's arms and for once, she melted into them as she admitted her greatest fear.

'I don't want to do this alone.'

Mary Margaret pulled away and put her hands on Emma's shoulders.

'You don't. You don't have to do anything on your own. We are all here for you,' she reassured as she wiped her daughter's tears away with the backs of her fingers. 'You have me, David, Henry, Ruby. You have the whole of Storybrooke!'

'But I don't have Neal,' Emma choked as she looked across into Mary Margaret's eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope there. She shuffled up next to her mother on the bed and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder. A lot had certainly changed since Neverland, including her relationship with Mary Margaret. The light was so dim and the silence so still that her eyes became heavy and it made her jump when her mother's voice once again pierced the quiet.

'Neal sacrificed himself to save Henry. To get all of us home. Your son is here and your baby will be here because Neal saved them. That makes him a better father than most I've known.'

Her hand slipped into Emma's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

'It'll be different this time. We all love you and we'll be here for you every step of the way.'

Emma gave her mother a watery smile and squeezed her hand back.

'Mom, will you stay here with me?'

The brunette climbed onto the bed, pulled down the covers and slid down as her daughter did the same. As she watched sleep fall across Emma's face and the worries of consciousness ebb away, Mary Margaret thought of her daughter's strength even after everything.

'Always,' she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Wow - I certainly didn't expect such a positive reaction, thank you all so much for your reviews and follows. I really appreciate it. A couple of people wanted more so I'm going to write a few chapters I think. I hope you're all coping as well as can be expected during the hiatus. DVD binges and my Once calendar seem to keeping it at bay for me at the moment! Thanks for reading!**

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It had been almost two weeks since Emma had told Mary Margaret the news and owing to David's recent behaviour, she was sure her mother had shared it with him. Emma was half expecting her parents to have sat her down and tried to persuade her to talk about how she was feeling but they hadn't. She made a mental note to thank them about that later. She swung her legs around to sit up on the edge of the bed and rubbed her face with her hands before pulling her long, blonde curls into a loose ponytail. Her eyes were drawn, as they were every morning, to the picture of Neal and Henry on her son's nightstand. She wondered if Henry managed to look at it every day without the sharp pain that shot through her chest every time she did. Henry. She would have to tell him soon. Slowly, she stood up, shuffled her feet into a pair of soft, white slippers, made a half-hearted attempt at straightening up her son's bed and padded downstairs.

Everyone was up and in varying states of readiness for the day. Mary Margaret was hurriedly eating a bowl of cereal at the table as she finished grading the last few papers before she left for school. David was dressed for work and sat opposite Henry, who was still wearing his pyjamas.  
'Henry, why aren't you dressed?' Emma asked, her voice still croaky with sleep.  
'We're having a staring competition,' he replied with his eyes still glued to his grandfather's, 'and I'm totally winning. Gramps said he would drive me to school today,' he added as an excuse for his unreadiness.  
'Actually, kid,' began Emma, meeting her mother's eyes almost pleadingly, 'I was thinking that maybe, if David doesn't mind watching the station today, you could skip school and we could spend some time together?'  
Mary Margaret gave her a knowing look and nodded her head slightly in approval just as Henry's eyes tore away from David's.  
'Really, mom?' he asked, so surprised by her suggestion that he hadn't noticed he'd lost the contest.  
'_If_ its okay with your gramps,' Emma repeated. David looked quizzically at his wife who once again gave permission with her features.  
'Fine by me!' he exclaimed and within minutes he and Mary Margaret had donned their hats, scarves, gloves and coats and bundled themselves out of the door.

As Henry stood before her, half expecting this to be a trick and his mother to change her mind any second, Emma studied him slowly. He needed a haircut, that was for sure. His pyjama bottoms were so short they finished above his ankles and she realised her son was no longer the same little kid who knocked on her apartment door on her 28th birthday.  
'So, what are we doing today?' Henry asked eagerly.  
'Well,' thought Emma out loud, 'neither of us have eaten and I could murder some of Granny's French toast. What do you say we grab some breakfast and then see what we want to do?'  
'Sounds great,' he began, 'but if I go into Granny's, the whole of Storybrooke will know I'm not at school!'  
'Good point. Okay,_ I'll_ go get the breakfast and bring it back here. Then we'll decide what to do.'

An hour later they had both showered, dressed and eaten. Ruby's eyebrows had raised when Emma ordered French toast _and_ pancakes with bacon to go but it was worth it to see Henry cover them with syrup and tuck in hungrily. It was during breakfast that she decided Henry needed to know about the baby. She certainly couldn't keep it from him forever and he'd coped so well with everything that had happened recently.  
'So I was thinking maybe we should take a walk. The snow is beautiful and we could go down to where your castle used to be so nobody sees us?'  
'Okay. Hey, I can wear my new scarf!' As he ran to get it, Emma couldn't help but smile after him. He was strong, her son. He'd been through so much, he'd _lost_ so much and yet his optimism never faltered.

Henry looked up at his mother through the slowly swirling snow and asked her a question.  
'Mom... Are you okay?'  
'Sure I am, kid. Why, don't I look okay?'  
'Can I be honest?' he asked cautiously.  
'Always.'  
'Ever since dad...' he began, 'ever since _Neverland_, you've barely looked at me.'  
She flinched, so taken aback by his sentence that she stopped dead in her tracks.  
'What?'  
'We don't talk anymore. I mean, we talk but we don't _really_ talk, like we used to. And every time you look at me you start biting your lip just like you are now.'  
With every word Emma's chest tightened and the emotion welled, hot and stinging behind her eyes. For a moment she just looked at him. A boy wiser than his years who was worried about his mother. They started walking again, towards the bench by the water. Eventually she opened her mouth her mouth to speak... and closed it again. The second time was more successful.  
'Here's the thing,' she said as she sat on the cold wood and turned to her son, 'you're just like him.'  
When Henry didn't respond, Emma continued.  
'Your smile, the way you blink your eyes after you wake up in the morning, the amount of syrup you pour over your pancakes. I never noticed it before. I tried for so long to forget about him that I didn't realise how much like him you are.'  
She paused, looking for some kind of reaction from Henry and when he didn't give it, she went on.  
'I guess I miss him. When Neal came back into our lives I just wanted him to leave again. I told myself it was because I didn't want you to get hurt but now I know it was because I was scared. I just can't help thinking that if I'd told you about him you could have spent more time together. And now he's...'  
She trailed off, not wanting to finish. Henry was looking into her eyes and watching the tears fall silently down her pale cheeks as wisps of hair blew around her face in the icy wind. Finally she plucked up the courage to say what she'd wanted to say ever since their trip to New York.  
'I'm sorry Henry.'  
In silent reply he wrapped his arms around his mother's shoulders and hugged her. She felt his chest heave against her own and, realising he was crying too, pulled him tighter.  
'Hey, it's okay to be sad,' she whispered as her chin rested on his shoulder. There they sat as the snow fell softly around them.

Eventually Emma pulled away and rested her hands on Henry's shoulders.  
'There's something else. Actually, it's the reason I brought you out here and before I say it I want you to know that it's ok to feel confused or strange about it because, _God_, I know I do.'  
Henry's eyebrows knitted with worry as he studied the blonde's face for a clue.  
'Okay...'  
'Okay,' she took a deep breath and let it out to try and steady the nerves, 'in Neverland, Neal,' she took another breath, 'your dad and I um... we spent time together... you know, looking for you. And, well, I'm pregnant.'  
Her son's eyes widened but he remained silent.  
'Yeah. That's how I felt. But look, I want you to be comfortable so... Okay you're smiling,' she observed as the corners of his mouth did indeed curve upwards.  
'Are you kidding? Of course I'm smiling!' he shrieked, 'I'm going to be a big brother!'  
'So you're okay with this?' Emma asked.  
'I'm more than okay, mom.'  
It was in this moment that she realised she had been hoping he would be all along. She released a breath she'd been holding in subconsciously.  
'Okay. Good. Oh kid, you're shivering. How about we go home, get under a blanket and watch some cartoons?'  
Henry nodded and they began their homeward journey in silence. As they rounded a corner, Henry slipped his gloved hand into hers and gave it a squeeze.  
'When you think about it, it's like dad left us a gift. It's like he didn't want us to be alone without him.'  
'Yeah kid, it kinda is.' There he went again, being a grown up. 'I love you, did you know that?'  
He grinned.  
'Yeah. I love you too, mom.'


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Still don't own the show or the characters, sadly! Hope you enjoy this latest installment. Sorry it's so short but I'll be writing the next one tomorrow. **

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'Hey, mom?' Henry's voice broke through the sound of clattering cutlery and chewing jaws.  
'Mmhmm?' replied the blonde, who had just taken a huge bite of pizza and was now wrangling the strings of molten cheese that stretched from the slice to her lips.  
'I was thinking, I could come with you to the hospital tomorrow. You know, if you wanted me to?'  
For a fraction of a second she wondered what he was talking about. _Hospital?_ Then she remembered.  
'Right, the ultrasound. Uh, yeah ok, if you want to. I don't think there'll be much to see though.'  
'We won't get to see the baby?' he asked, intrigued.  
'Yeah I think we will. I just don't know how clear it will be. I'm only 13 weeks, remember?' Emma replied. He sure had become interested in his new sibling.  
'Ok.'  
He seemed satisfied and they went back to eating in silence for a while until Henry's curiosity finally got the better of him.  
'Did you have an ultrasound when you were having me?'  
Emma felt warmth flood up her face and she involuntarily cleared her throat with nerves. What she was about to admit, she had never told anyone before.  
'Uh, yeah. Two actually.'  
'So... you must know what the baby will look like on the screen tomorrow?' _God_ he was relentless.  
She drew in a breath to give herself time to think about how to phrase her next sentences.  
'Look, kid,' she began, 'I never saw the screen. I didn't look at what was on it.'  
Henry's face fell, he looked as though someone had deflated him in front of her. Emma knew she owed him more of an explanation.  
'You know you're the most important thing in the world to me, right?'  
He nodded.  
'But all those years ago, when I was in prison, I had nothing to offer you. I was just a kid and I was in jail, alone. I wanted you to have a life, a good one, and that was something I just couldn't give you. So I didn't look at the monitors because I knew that if I looked at you I'd want you and I wouldn't be able to give you your best chance.'  
There was a pause as they both contemplated her words. She knew her next question would sound childish but she needed to know how he felt.  
'Are you mad at me?'  
'No,' he replied, 'I'm not mad. I get it. But I'm going to be there tomorrow and my little sister is going to have the _two_ of us looking at her.'  
Emma smiled a smile that lit up her whole face.  
'And what makes you think it's going to be a girl?'  
Henry raised his eyebrows in a knowing way.  
'Just a feeling.'  
'Alright kid, well you take that feeling upstairs and get ready for bed. I'll be up in a minute.'  
When Henry had taken his plate, placed it noisily on the kitchen counter and run upstairs at lightening speed, Emma realised her hands had found their way to her still-flat stomach.  
'So your brother thinks you're a girl huh?' she said softly into the silent room, 'Well, whatever you are, I promise you, you will be loved.'  
As her feet touched the cool steps one after the other, she thought about Henry's prediction, and another of those golden smiles found its way onto her features.  
They wouldn't know for a while yet but his _feeling_ would turn out to be spot on.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Okay so originally I was going to have Henry at the ultrasound but when a review asked for Snow to be there I just couldn't resist! Thank you all so much for your favourites/follows/reviews - they mean the world!**

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For a split second the next morning, Emma wondered why she was propped awkwardly against the side of her son's bed. Then she saw the bucket and a strong smell of disinfectant assaulted her nose.

Henry had been throwing up half the night. _Poor kid_, she thought as she moved her neck from side to side, wincing. Slowly, she got up, pulled her sleeping son's blanket up and over his shoulders, and tiptoed out of the room. It was still early and the sun was only just paling the dawn sky as Emma made her way downstairs, where she was shocked to find her mother already awake and sitting at the table.  
'Oh, hey,' Mary Margaret began, 'how's he doing?'  
'Yeah he's doing ok now I think. He's asleep at least... Wait, how did you know?'  
'The door was left open and I could see your legs on the ground so I looked in on you two. Poor little guy.'  
'Yeah. He'll be so disappointed that he can't come to the hospital today. Last night he said he really wanted to be there,' Emma said as she dropped her tired, aching body into the empty chair opposite her mother.  
'Oh, I didn't know it was today,' Mary Margaret's face visibly fell.  
'Yeah. I just figured you guys would be busy, you know, since it's breakfast-date-at-Granny's-day on Saturdays.'  
There was a moment's pause until Emma could take her mother's pained face no longer.  
'If you wanted to come with me, that would be okay,' she offered as their eyes met and Emma could visibly see the joy manifesting in the brunette's face. Although she didn't want to admit it, she was secretly hoping the offer would be accepted and, of course, it was.

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Three hours later after much persuasion and promises that he could be the first to see the sonogram pictures when they returned, Henry had finally allowed his mother and grandmother to leave for the hospital. A small smile spread over Emma's face as she lay on the bed and thought about how protective her son was already. The paper underneath her scrunched as she turned to see Mary Margaret eying up the machine that was to give her the first glimpse of her new grandchild. Sometimes Emma forgot that her mother hadn't had any of this when she was pregnant. Small, thoughtful grunts were coming from the pixie-haired woman as she tried to figure out how it was going to work. Thankfully she was interrupted by Dr. Whale who, after a faint knock, entered and made his way over to Emma.  
'Hi, Emma. I don't think I've had a chance to say congratulations yet!'  
'Thanks,' replied the blonde who's stomach felt as though butterflies may actually escape from it.  
At this point, Mary Margaret made her way back to her daughter and sat on a stool next to the bed.  
'So, are you feeling alright? Any morning sickness or anything?' probed Whale as he began filling in a form on his clipboard.  
'No, no sickness, touch wood,' she replied, 'although the same can't be said for Henry I'm afraid. The kid was up most of the night last night.'

After offering Henry his best wishes and advising the women on how best to get him back to full health, Dr. Whale declared that it was time to begin. Mary Margaret looked perplexed as a clear gel was applied to Emma's abdomen and Whale moved a white white wand over it. Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly at the screen until a small white shape appeared in the centre. Emma had to admit it looked more like a baby than she was expecting. It's head was rounded and, when she looked closely, she could make out a tiny nose. She couldn't take her eyes off the screen and they brimmed with tears as Whale explained what they were looking at.  
'Would you like to hear your baby's heartbeat?' he asked when all the measurements had been taken and three grainy but beautiful photographs had been printed out. Emma turned away from the screen and looked questioningly at Mary Margaret, who's face was damp with tears as she turned to her daughter and they nodded in unison. Whale flicked a switch and, as a rhythmic thudding sound filled the room, the brunette's hand found it's way to Emma's and gripped it tightly. Tears were flowing freely now from the eyes of both women. They revelled in the miracle of the little person they were yet to meet and although Emma wished Henry could have been there, the expression of pure delight on Mary Margaret's face assured her that this was how it was supposed to be.

After Whale had completed his notes and wiped the gel from her stomach, Emma pulled down her shirt and sat up on the edge of the bed. Mary Margaret gathered their things together and they began making their way to the door.  
'Emma,' called Dr. Whale as he came after them, holding the strip of photographs out for her, 'don't forget these. Now you can show Henry what your baby looks like!'  
'Oh, thanks!' she exclaimed, certain that Henry would never have forgiven her if she'd left them behind.

_Her baby. _She liked the sound of that.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Always happy to consider suggestions for this story - it actually helps because I'm sometimes not sure where to go in the next installment! As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

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The ultrasound printouts had been attached to the fridge for several weeks now and the family were getting more and more excited as each day passed. Henry had persuaded Regina to cast a spell on the pendant used by Mary Margaret to determine the gender of her first-born child, allowing him to see if his hunch had been correct. Once it had been confirmed, he told anyone who would listen that he had known all along. Regularly, when he and Emma were lying watching a film, Henry would put one ear against his mother's slightly curving stomach to try and hear his sister moving about.

Emma, on the other hand, was still trying to get her head around it all. Some days she would wake up feeling positive, find her hands subconsciously resting on her raised stomach and had even caught herself talking to the baby on a couple of occasions. On other days, her fear of the future was so paralysing that she couldn't even face going to work.

Today was one of those days.

Curled under a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and cinnamon, Emma was completely unaware that her mother had sent Henry to the station with David for the day. She bustled them out of the door before they'd even had breakfast, and prepared to turn her attention to the blonde who was staring blankly at the wall ahead, lost in thought. Despite everything that had happened before, their relationship had settled into a comfortable place somewhere between best friends and mother and daughter, and since Neverland it had strengthened more than either of them could have imagined.

The brunette moved to sit across from her daughter whose gaze did not falter. She soundlessly reminded herself to take it slowly; Emma was like a frightened animal when it came to sharing her emotions and asking her outright would surely spook her.  
'So, how are you doing?' she blurted out. Who was she kidding? Tact had NEVER been one of her strengths.  
Emma stirred from the faraway place she had been and seemed to jolt at the sound of Mary Margaret's voice.  
'Huh?'  
'Welcome back,' teased the brunette, 'I asked how you are doing. All this...' her eyes involuntarily glanced down at the small but defined contour of Emma's bump, 'It must be pretty hard for you?'  
'I'm ok I think,' the blonde replied. 'It's just hard to forget everything when I'm always going to be reminded of him.'  
'Neal?'  
Emma nodded slowly.  
'You know, I don't think you're _supposed_ to forget. I think Henry and this baby are going to be constant reminders, but this is the way I see it; just because you can't forget doesn't mean you can't move on. There are going to be so many moments when you wish he was here and that's okay, but as long as you have all of us here beside you, it will get easier. I'm sure of it. Neal died to save Henry and the Emma I know would have done the same in a heartbeat,' Mary Margaret finished.  
Again, Emma nodded but did not offer any reply. After a long pause, the brunette rose from her seat and took her daughter's used mug into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a fresh cup of cocoa which she placed on the coaster next to Emma. _Well_, she thought as she selected a book from a shelf above the television, _if she doesn't want to talk, the least I can do is make sure she isn't alone._

For almost two hours the silence was broken only by the soft sound of turning pages. Something inside of Mary Margaret told her that when her daughter was ready, she would share what was really on her mind and sure enough, into the safe, dim warmth of the room came the small voice of a child who was ready to confide in her mother.  
'What am I going to tell her?'  
Mary Margaret's eyebrows joined questioningly.  
'When she's old enough to ask,' Emma continued, 'What will I tell her when she wants to know why she doesn't have a daddy like the other kids? Who's going to teach her how to change the oil when she gets her first car? Who will walk her down the aisle?'  
The last word escaped as a choked sob whereupon Mary Margaret rushed to fold her arms tightly around her daughter. She found herself making involuntary shushing noises as they rocked ever so slightly from side to side. The feeling of Emma's body convulsing with sobs was enough to draw a steady stream of tears from the eyes of the brunette who wished more than anything in the world that she could take away some of her daughter's pain. In a voice close to a whisper, she spoke.  
'Hey, I don't know about those last two but I do know this; your daughter _will_ have a father and he will be the man you and Henry hold alive in your hearts. She won't have memories of him but she will be alive _in _memory of him. You will teach her to think of her daddy as the man he was, right up until the very end. A hero.'

Mary Margaret was not sure what time is was when David and Henry returned that evening and tiptoed upstairs. All she knew was that those hours she spent holding her daughter were a reminder that they had come so far and yet the journey was really only just beginning.


End file.
